Epic Shower
by Fairywolf
Summary: For the prompt "Bucket and Skinner do it in a shower. Bucket tops." Smut, Sucket.


The smell of the ocean is always around him. Skinner can never escape it, and he never ever wants to. 'Bucket smells like the ocean,' Skinner muses as he opens the door to his bedroom. His surf board is downstairs, waiting for his next water-based adventure, and he drops his towel on the hard-wood next to his bed before peeling off his wetsuit. He sighs in relief as the clinging fabric drops off of him and he steps out of it.

'Yes, Bucket smells very nice,' Skinner remembers. Skinner thinks he must feel quite nice, too. He has very soft skin, Skinner knows this from experience, but would like to test it further. After all, Skinner's crush on the brunette surfer is no secret. It seems like everybody in the world except Bucket knows, sometimes.

'It isn't fair, really,' thinks Skinner, turning on the water. Isn't the blonde supposed to be the dumb one? Bucket really should have noticed something by now. Lingering hugs and soft touches that are more than just friendly add up at some point. They must.

'But they haven't yet.' Skinner's best friend is oblivious, and it's killing him. But it's worth it to wait for him. To wait for soft, tousled, dark hair, and sculpted cheekbones, and miles of porcelain smooth skin that smells like the ocean waves...

Skinner steps into the shower and wraps a hand around the base of his now-present erection. He sighs softly, leaning back into the hot water and squeezing himself gently. "Bucket," he mumbles softly, pressing a hand against the tile as he begins to stroke himself. Times stills as his hands slide over the smooth-hard skin, setting off electric sparks in his brain. His touches linger, grasp tightening, soft moans spilling out of his mouth. His eyes open to find a very, very surprised Bucket standing in the doorframe of the bathroom.

'I left that open, didn't I?' Skinner thinks, eyes widening. He wants to move, wants to stop touching himself, but he can't, he's so close and this is so wrong and so dirty and so, _so_ hot. Bucket is opening and closing his mouth, clearly searching for the words to say something, but can't do it. His mouth opens again, just as Skinner's hand twitches a little bit on his needy cock. Skinner releases a soft moan, eyes rolling back as the hand jerks on himself out of instinct.

'Wrong, wrong, this is so wrong!' Skinner thinks. He's touching himself in front of his best friend and there isn't anything he can do to stop it. His eyes fly open in surprise a moment later when he suddenly feels a hand that isn't his own touching his inner thigh, rubbing soft circles into the skin. He looks down to see Bucket on his knees in front of the tub, moaning again at the sight. Bucket wraps a hand around Skinner's thigh, turning him so the blonde's erection is right in front of his face. When his tongue peeks out to trace over the head of Skinner's cock, the blonde's head flies back as another moan escapes him. His hands tangle into Bucket's hair, running through the strands, and yes, they're just as soft as Skinner thought they would be.

Bucket only teases him, barely running over the skin of the blonde's most intimate body part, before the brunette stands up fully, kissing Skinner fiercely. When the kiss finally ends, Skinner is gasping for breath and desperately needing more. Bucket steps back and peels his shirt over his head, unzipping his shorts and dropping them, along with his boxers, onto the tile. He is naked and in the tub with Skinner before the blonde can even process more than the fact that Bucket is already hard.

Skinner moans again as Bucket's tongue finds it's way back into Skinner's mouth. The soft muscles dance together, setting off fireworks in both boys' lower stomachs. Skinner leans back against the cool tile and wraps his arms around Bucket's neck, drawing him closer as the brunette's hands find their way to Skinner's hips. When they break again, Bucket is holding up three fingers to Skinner's lips. He taps them gently. "Suck," he commands, brushing the fingers across Skinner's mouth. The blonde obliges, opening his mouth and sucking the fingers in. He watches as the brunette's breathing grows more and more unsteady every time he swirls his tongue around his fingers, particularly enjoying the low moan he gets in return for lightly nipping on one. When Bucket pulls his fingers out of Skinner's mouth, he growls softly.

"Turn around and spread your legs," Bucket whispers into Skinner's ear. Skinner feels a shiver run down his spine from finally hearing him say those words, and doesn't hesitate to do as he is told. He spreads his legs as wide as he can, gasping when he feels a finger tracing around his entrance. When it pushes in, his entire body feels light and tingly, all feeling centered toward that one finger.

"Ok?" asks Bucket, moving the finger a little. Skinner gasps again, chest rising and falling rapidly with the effort of breathing, and pushes himself back on it.

"More," he asks, surprised at how low his voice sounds just then. He groans softly when Bucket complies, pressing in a second finger and scissoring them. It hurts, yes, but it's a good kind of hurt, the kind that leaves him with an insatiable need for _more_.

"More!" he asks again, louder this time. Bucket lets out a low growl and slowly, slowly pushes in the third and final finger. Skinner feels so full, and it hurts more now. He realises suddenly that he's been making soft whimpering sounds for a few seconds now and quickly bites his lip to stop it.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Bucket whispers, leaning against the blonde's back. Skinner nods. "Move," he requests. Bucket does so, slowly withdrawing the fingers before pushing them back in. Skinner is startled at the burst of feeling that hits him suddenly, yelling Bucket's name before he realizes what he's doing and thrusting himself back onto the brunette's fingers.

Bucket growls again; watching his extremely hot best friend fuck himself on his fingers is very, very hot to watch. He enjoys it until he knows that Skinner is getting close again, then withdraws the fingers. Skinner whines, missing the feeling of having a part of Bucket inside him.

Bucket lines himself up with Skinner's entrance. As he pushes in, Skinner catches a whiff of the ocean. He smiles to himself, despite the pain of being stretched out. When Bucket is fully inside, Skinner doesn't wait for him to start moving, and instead begins thrusting his own hips. Bucket is taken completely by surprise and lets out another long, low moan, louder than the last ones. He grasps Skinner's hips, holding him still.

"Let's get something clear. I'm in charge here," Bucket tells him, voice low and pupils blown wide. "If anybody here is gonna be screaming in pleasure, it's gonna be you."

Skinner moans loudly, closing his eyes. Bucket is moving inside him now, thrusts almost harsh, but hitting the magical spot inside him every single time. When Bucket wraps an arm around his waist to grab his erection, Skinner actually does scream out in pleasure.

"BUCKET!" he screeches, throwing his hips back as best as he can. "Harder, harder!" Bucket's thrusts are pounding inside him now, driving him forward, pushing him over that edge.

"Oh, fuck! God, _Bucket!_" Skinner screams as he comes, painting the tile in front of him white. Bucket follows, barely a second later, moaning out a low "Skinner!"

Bucket stays inside him, after. Both boys are panting, just standing under the now-cold stream of water. When Bucket finally slides out, he just reaches for the water and turns it off.

"C'mon," he says to Skinner, holding out a hand and helping him out of the tub. He pulls Skinner into his own bedroom, laying them both down on the bed. "I don't know about you, but I'm tired." Skinner laughs. "Me, too." The last thing Skinner thinks before he falls asleep, is that Bucket really does smell like the ocean.


End file.
